


Hunting Season

by LittleRaven



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Character Study, Character Turned Into a Werewolf, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Triple Drabble, Were-Creatures, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:11:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/pseuds/LittleRaven
Summary: Beverly goes through some changes she must process.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Osmosis Exchange





	Hunting Season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [summerdayghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerdayghost/gifts).

> To summerdayghost: thank you for the fun tags! They were a delight and I was happy to offer them at first sight. 
> 
> To any readers who might be unaware: this was written as a gift within the Osmosis Exchange, where we create fanworks about things we know/remember little about, according to what we've gathered about them, for the purpose of fun.

When the hair first started growing, Beverly thought it was just another nightmare. There was the clown, and there was her father. There might as well also be hair on her back, black with the thickness of it, almost like fur. Right then. She wasn’t going to bother shaving that. At least clothes could cover the embarrassment. If only all her problems could be solved this way, patched over quick and easy to pretend about in front of everyone else. 

Briefly, she wondered if the clown had caused it. Could a clown do that? He was doing so many other things. This one seemed a little tamer, if unusual. Maybe that was its way of being funny. He could be brutal, and then just settle for terrorizing her with bizarre but low-key bodily changes. The line of thought made her nervous; what else would he change, if he could do that? What exactly was going to be left of her body?

Her lips tightened. Fuck that. She was tired of being scared. Beverly never knew that could happen, that being on the edge was a constant drain that could, like a rubber band snapping back, send her right back to not being afraid again. The corners of her still pressed mouth turned up in the barest suggestion of a smile. She couldn’t say if that was a good thing, but it certainly felt satisfying. Heat seized her blood as it rushed faster, and her smile grew big, full, outright. Enough to show all her teeth. They protruded sharply now; she almost cut her tongue as it curled past them, hanging red and wet. 

It would serve her, Beverly decided, to be a quick learner. There were things older than clowns, more violent than fathers. 

The moon rose. She would hunt.


End file.
